Don't Call a Helicopter! (on Jesus Prayer), Mar 31, 2019 -- Children's Time and Sermon

The Intergenerational Time: 

Have you ever prayed to God? 

Have you ever had someone (your parent, grandparent or great-grandparent or friends) pray for you?

How do you pray? 

Why do we pray? 

I am so happy that you are here today, because we can learn and talk about how we pray and why we pray. 

I think we can use water to learn and understand about prayer. 

When we are thirsty, we can think and say, “Oh, I am thirsty. I want a drink.” Then we can go to the kitchen and look for a cup, and tap water, etc. Or we can ask an adult for help to get a drink. Getting a cup, going to a fountain, a faucet, getting a drink - these can all be compared to prayer. “Oh God, please help me win the game. God, please help my friend to heal. God, please get me a pet. God, please give us good weather tomorrow, for my family picnic,”. We call these prayers “Prayers of petition.” We ask for what we need or what we want in prayers. These prayers are often beautiful, especially when we pray for the happiness of others, or the well-being of our friends. Sometimes we can be disappointed because even when we pray, we might not get what we asked for or wanted. 

Today, I would like to share with you about what we can learn from the Jesus prayer. A very long time ago, it was in the third century — we are in the 21st century now - prayerful women and men began to go into the deserts of Egypt and Palestine to pray, and to live a life dedicated to prayer. They are known as the Desert Mothers and Fathers. People called them “Amma” and “Abba”.) The way that they prayed inspired Christians generation to generation for the next 1800 years, especially in Eastern Christianity. Even now, it still inspires Christians all over the world, not only in the Orthodox Church but in the United Church and also in Korea. I learned this prayer for the first time in Korea when I was young. I learned it simply as repeatedly saying/praying “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” “주 예수 그리스도님, 저에게 자비를 베푸소서.” 

I hope you will have an opportunity to learn about this prayer, and more ancient ways of the church as you grow, but the lesson I would like to share with you today is this: 

These Amma and Abba believed and taught their friends that the goal for everyone who prays is straightforward and single - regardless of what kind of prayer we say: Being one with God. Union (being one) with God is the reason why we pray. It’s called theosis, pronouncing THEH-o-sees. Theos means God, and as a cloth soaks up water by osmosis, we are saturated with God through theosis. 

(Demonstrate soaking up a cloth by dipping it completely in the water in the glass basin, taking it out and showing it to all.)

Where you drink water, where you find the tap, which cup you use, whether you drink water directly from the tap or use your hands, those things don’t really matter. The effect of the prayer is that water (God) comes into your throat, your insides, flowing to every cell of your body and quenching your thirst. Water helps you to focus on what you need to do next, because you’re not suffering from thirst anymore. More importantly, without water, you can’t survive. We need water to live.

So, I am delighted to share this teaching from countless Ammas and Abbas in our tradition that the goal of all prayers is the same, ultimately: It is like soaking yourself in the Pacific Ocean - being one with God. So, if you ever wonder about why you pray in the future, remember this: soak a cloth in water and see what happens. Drink a cup of water, and feel what changes. 

Sermon: Don’t Call a Helicopter! (on Jesus Prayer)

Once upon a time my partner Min-Goo and I were dating. They were good days! 

Min-Goo loved mountains; I loved the sea. That’s how many stories of relationships go; the two love opposite things, and are willing to learn what the other likes. 

Min-Goo suggested climbing up one of the high peaks of Seol-Ak Mountain. It is the most beloved mountain in South Korea, but very few young Korean couples would choose this mountain for dating. In those days, I was still a city dweller who didn’t walk (to be accurate, who didn’t like to walk) long distances; I’d just call a taxi, for convenience. The peak we chose was Da-Cheong Bong, 1,708 metres tall, and we decided to climb it in one afternoon before sunset. There was a lodge where we could stay overnight on the mountaintop. Before that day, I had never climbed a mountain higher than 617 m (with my mom and my brother when we were children.)

Here’s where the story begins - you are the first audience to ever hear this story. I gave up climbing after only half an hour, once the slope began to get steeper and steeper. Suddenly, at one point, it looked so steep, like 60 degrees (show it by arms). It had only been 30 minutes, but I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I just couldn't imagine myself keeping climbing for next four hours (non-stop)! I shouted to Min-Goo, “Call a helicopter!” Instead of calling a helicopter, Min-Goo lifted up the backpack I was carrying and took it on his back. Suddenly I felt a huge lift, both physically and in spirit, and immediately knew I could climb again. Eventually, even though it actually took more than 5-6 hours to get to the mountaintop (show the picture), I enjoyed myself because of the effect from not thinking about anything other than just walking. There was nothing you could do other than walk, especially if you wanted to finish climbing before sunset (or just you want to finish climbing. period.) And this reality of you-have-no-choice-but-walking-and-walking-and-walking created such a saturation of pure joy, and the satisfaction of keeping myself to one goal. Eventually when Min-Goo and I reached the wide-open place which had no walls of woods and rocks any more but only the blowing winds from all four directions, I knew I would become a lover of mountains. 

Later, when I told my dad about what happened, the desperately ridiculous moment of wanting to call a helicopter, my father decided to teach me his secret prayer. He knew Min-Goo and I would make another climb together, and this time, he wanted me to pray "Jesus Christ" each time I moved my steps, like “Jesus” for my first left and right steps, and “Christ” for my second left and right steps, (in Korean, Ye Su, Kris toh). Ye su kris toh, Ye su kris toh, Ye su Kris toh, Ye su Kris toh for thousands and thousands of steps! And it worked! I was the fastest, steadiest, most energetic, happiest climber among all we went with in our next adventure. 

The reason why I share this story is because mountain climbing can be a good metaphor for why we pray and how we pray, especially the Jesus Prayer. According to Frederica Mathewes-Green, the author of The Jesus Prayer: The Ancient Desert Prayer That Tunes the Heart to God, the Jesus Prayer arose in the early church as a way to practice continuous prayer, as in Thessalonians 5, (today’s reading) “Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances.” "Pray without ceasing." 

Among Ammas and Abbas who began to gather and pray in the deserts in Palestine and Egypt, in the third century, with time, the form “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me” emerged as the universal favourite. 

I would like to share two things about this prayer. 

First, Matthewes-Green emphasizes that the Jesus Prayer has been treasured in the Christian East ever since its birth in the desert, more than 1,500 years ago. Because this prayer is so simple, accessible to anyone, lay or ordained, educated or illiterate, in a quiet monastery or during busy days in the city, over the centuries, uncountable numbers of people have come to know God’s constant nearness by practicing this fluid, continual remembrance of Jesus’ name. One thing I like about this prayer is its resemblance to the Buddhist stream that taught lay, illiterate, women believers that nirvana is open to them even without education, if they could call Bodhisattva/Buddha’s name with their most sincere, whole being and heart, even just once in their lifetime. This teaching of equality was revolutionary. These people, looked down-upon and left out, would enter nirvana and extinguish their constant cycle of suffering by the prayer of calling the divine names.  

Second, Matthewes-Green quotes “In the west, it is usual to think of Roman Catholicism and Protestantism as opposite extremes; but to an Orthodox they appear as the two sides of the same coin.” (that’s from Metropolitan Kallistos Ware’s classic book, The Orthodox Church,) Isn’t it interesting? If you wonder what the Orthodox viewpoint is like, here’s the answer: in contrast to the West “Spirituality is not a word used much in Orthodox contexts. The reason is that everything is “spirituality”. Christian Orthodoxy is itself a spiritual path, rather than an institution or set of propositions. From the outside, Orthodoxy must look exuberantly chaotic, but from the inside it is a closely coordinated collection of wisdom (some elders term it a “science”) about how to pursue theosis. (Remember? Theosis means: Being one with God like a cloth being soaked in water.) In the East, the goal of everything is united organically to be a single, united path of spirituality, aimed at the clear goal of theosis. And in Orthodox spirituality, there is a quality of urgency. If it is not now, then when? We need to be watchful, to be awake, not to sleep. Life is serious. Salvation (healing) is serious. And in every moment, we must decide anew to follow Christ. 

So how do we pray the Jesus Prayer (aka Prayer of the Heart)?

The Jesus Prayer Has Three Stages in Practice. You begin praying the Jesus Prayer by repeating the words of the prayer out loud or at least moving your lips. This is called verbal prayer. After some time, the saying of the Jesus Prayer becomes silent or mental and is repeated only in the mind. This is mental prayer. Finally, the Jesus Prayer becomes a continuous prayer in the heart, the inner core of our being. We begin with vocal prayer and do not force the move to mental prayer. This will happen naturally when you are ready. This is why the Jesus Prayer has another name, “Prayer of the Heart”. The mental prayer begins to descend into the heart - “into the heart” not just metaphorically, but also to the physical heart. This blending of matter and spirit can be surprising to Western Christians. 

I read about a Korean practitioner who practiced this prayer 3000 times a day, then 6,000 times a day, then 12,000 times a day with the guidance of a spiritual mentor. He said, practicing this prayer helped him gain unbelievable spiritual balance and joy in his life, being saturated with health, bliss, freedom and comfort. 

There is a huge height, depth and width of the Eastern Christian tradition to learn and explore - I cannot do justice to it within a 15-minute sermon. But I know many of us, young and old, including me, would benefit from learning and practicing interior prayers such as the Centering Prayer, the Jesus Prayer, among others, especially when our daily lives are so busy and heavily dependent on social media that sends us constant notifications, alerts, messages that pull us to respond and react. (This phenomenon is a concern not just for the young people, because over half of all smartphone users have a need to check their smartphones every few minutes. On average a person spends 165 minutes of the day, which is over 17 percent of our waking hours staring at the small box - the digital screen -) We need to learn how to nurture our interior quietness, silence, stillness and rest to resist keeping pulled away from the interior life and grow the sense of who we are. 

This prayer also challenges us to rethink our beliefs in self-reliance and reorient us to reflect on the reality of our ‘neediness’: our neediness of not only shelter, clothing and food but also our need of love, our need of interior beauty, peace and happiness. The Eastern Orthodox understanding of God includes God’s healing compassion. Therefore, when we ask, “have mercy on me”, we express our trust in God’s healing compassion, and God’s presence in simplicity, with love. 

Of course, the most important thing to remember in learning and practicing the Jesus Prayer lies in the metaphor of climbing up a mountain. No amount of complaining at the foot of the mountain will elevate us; only walking without ceasing will get us to the mountain top. The Jesus prayer teaches us the spiritual benefit of praying: praying without ceasing and pursuing theosis. It teaches the spiritual benefit and meaning of repentance, continuation and persistence, left steps and right steps, both on the ascent and descent of the mountain. No helicopters needed – just persistence and prayer.

Sermon: On Sanctuary, Mar 17, 2019

Sermon: On Sanctuary 

Text: Deuteronomy 8:2-6

I planned the elements of this Sunday’s worship, such as the order of service, the theme, and the hymns early this week, using that early preparation to open up time to attend the conference, Striving for Human Dignity: Race, Gender, Class and Religion, hosted by the Islamic Social Services Association (called ISSA) on Thursday and Friday. I planned to share with you about walking through a labyrinth as an example of forming a spiritual practice in our daily lives. Yet the recent tragedy that has shaken so many of us, Muslims and non-Muslims alike, not only in New Zealand, but here in Canada, here in Winnipeg, changed my focus. The Prime Minister of New Zealand, Jacinda Ardern, named it as a “terrorist attack,” not just “mosque shootings”, and indeed it was an act of terrorism which killed *50 people and injured 50 while they were at Friday prayers. Ardern urged her people to overcome the us-versus-them mentality and to simply remember that “they are us.” That message resonates with us: you cannot be calm and apathetic when your friends, neighbours, family members, and fellow citizens are shaken by shock, anger, grief, and fear. 

I was juggling many commitments this week, and I was too busy to stop what I was doing when this act of terrorism took so many innocent people’s lives, the lives of people of faith, who are just like us. I was busy that night, and I was busy the next morning. I don’t have a TV and I get most news from my social media circle. I read a few news titles about the mosque shootings as I bounced between commitments, but I didn’t have the time to look deeper. It got my full attention only when a friend of mine sent me and a few others an email, and I am going to read it out loud because it gave me perspective. It gave me a more personal reason to pay more attention. My friend is a queer Jewish woman. She’s a human rights scholar who teaches journalism, and she said: 

“I am sure you have all heard about the massacre in NZ - the death of 49 people and wounding of 20 - the fact that it was live streamed - the fact that the self-confessed murderer (now arrested, as well as 3 other people) wrote a manifesto about white supremacy and called himself "a normal guy...."

I know what it is like to be of a cultural/religious minority and hated for who I am. I know how much the support of others outside of my community means to me. I saw this in Winnipeg in response to the shooting massacre in Pennsylvania when THOUSANDS of people came to the synagogue - and only about 1/3-1/2 of the room was Jewish.

I am relatively new to Winnipeg. I have reached out to friends/colleagues and former students of mine in solidarity and support but it is a very personal, solitary, action. You have wider local networks than me... perhaps there is a way to reach out and show support?”

Reflecting on my Thursday night and Friday morning, I would like to put it this way. I was busy for all the right reasons, (for example, I have two kids and both have their parent-teacher interviews on the same day at the same time in two different schools), but busyness does interrupt our ability to become and stay spiritually mindful and politically awake. When we hear our neighbours cry out in pain and shock, demanding compassionate listening, we are never too busy to adopt the clarity of understanding to see the reality, the truth, and show our love with actions. 

Actually my Jewish friend sent her email with the title: “Live shooting of white supremacist/Islamophobic massacre in NZ” and I am glad to see that this descriptive clarity is being shared more widely than before, that social awareness of white supremacy and Islamophobia has increased. 

The rapid growth of white supremacy groups and their global interconnections have already become a real social threat. Researchers say that every province and region in Canada is affected by right wing white supremacy groups and hate crimes, but that’s nothing new. What is new is that the demographic has changed. The rising white supremacists are not skinheads with black leather jackets who listen to heavy metal music. These groups are “normal guys” and women, educated, employed, with a wide age range. “Great White Nation” is part of the global movement, and even as they present the Canadian flag on their posters, their nation of hatred transcends the borders of any single country. Angry, resentful people are drawn to groups like this to express their violent tendencies, but the songs to recruit members can be folk songs or Country music or very mellow-sounding music with harmful lyrics. Another thing that is very alarming to me as a parent is that White supremacy is insidiously pervasive; it even reaches schoolchildren’s lives, their thinking, and their every-day communication. White supremacy, Islamophobic right wing groups and their ideologies cannot be dismissed as ‘outside influences’ when they find fertile soil in the societal system in which ordinary citizen’s lives are rooted. For example, in my son’s life, kids play video games that lavishly praise the normality and superiority of White masculinity; kids subscribe to YouTube videos which flesh out such narratives with slurs and jokes and unfiltered images. Race-based kids’ slurs are used every day at school. Children are already both victims and perpetrators of White supremacy regardless of their skin colour and ethnicity. Children of colour have to make choices - to resist or to conform and assimilate. The pressure of white normality damages children’s self-esteem and self-love. It is very hurtful to see your children adopt race-based self-hatred. 

Here’s one interesting research result I learned from the conference. 

Can a (fill in the blank) be a “real Canadian”?

Ask my children or other children of colour. Not all of them would answer the same way, but it is alarming that many children still might answer they should be really White-skinned or born here in Canada to be a Canadian. It is so saddening. 

The research results show that the people polled say: 

Christian: 80 % of people say yes, they can be a real Canadian.

Atheist: 70 %

Jew: 64 %

Hindu: 58 %

Muslim: 56 % of the people polled said they believe that Muslims can be ‘real’ Canadians.

There were so many powerful moments during the conference and if I can highlight one, ‘rethinking sanctuary’ seems to be relevant to the theme I originally planned to share if this attack at the mosques had not happened (and they shouldn’t ever happen): walking on a labyrinth. 

As I shared with the children in The Intergenerational Time, the labyrinth which became widely known to the public and Christians in the 90s comes from the pattern of the medieval eleven-circuit labyrinth that remains embedded in the floor of Chartres Cathedral in France.

It is a spiritual tool found on the inside of the sanctuary. We do not know its original purpose or how it was used in the Middle Ages. No records have been found until today. 

For us Christians, sanctuary is a beautiful word. I am sure that, to many others, sanctuary is a beautiful concept, a beautiful practice, a beautiful space/place. This beauty is based on the promise and assurance of safety for all who come in. “You are safe here.” Sanctuary means a place of worship and hospitality where all people are nurtured and encouraged to safely explore and experience the holy. During the second day of the Striving for Human Divinity Conference, Dr. Omar Reda was the theme speaker. He is a leading expert in psychotraumatology and trauma-informed care as well as the mental health of Muslims, immigrants and refugees, the Libyan revolution and the Arab Spring. His words challenged me to rethink my ideas about sanctuary. Dr. Omar shared with us that sanctuary implies the dynamic in the meaning: if those inside of it are safe, then those who are outside are considered the enemy.

I pondered the invitation to rethink ‘sanctuary’ a little further. Even in secular times such as ours, we Christians hold a privilege; we can still believe and hope that the church will continue to receive protection and will continue to be respected as a place for protecting others. For example, we have known cases in which certain churches were able to provide protection for refugees, especially those who were in danger of deportation and serious persecution in their country of origin. This past Friday morning, I felt shaken and vulnerable when I realized that the rapid rise of the radical right-wing, White supremacy groups and ideologies meant that the sanctuary of sacred spaces is no longer a promise. People inside of mosques may never feel safe again. The basic assurance of safety, of the mosque as sanctuary should be a given, and yet the ability of those mosques in New Zealand to provide for their own worshippers was stolen from them. Literally, in Christchurch, NZ, those who were inside of the mosques were killed, and those who were on the outside of their sanctuary were the real enemies, hateful and hostile. And we are reminded, they are us – that man, the killer, by his own description, “Just a normal guy”. They are us. Our Muslim sisters, brothers and kins, our contemporaries of faith. This must shake us. This must awaken us. We must practice Christian humbleness to truly repent, to be truly awake and to truly encounter God who weeps with those who weep and mourns with those who mourn. May God humble us and feed us with not only daily bread but also the words of life. (Matthew 4:1-4; Deuteronomy 8:2-6 - our scripture readings of today.) as we walk together on this winding labyrinth of healing, justice and reconciliation, sharing vulnerability, showing solidarity, loving in action.

*updated for most recent numbers of dead/injured on Saturday afternoon

Sermon: Genesis and Ash Wednesday (The 1st Sunday of Lent), Mar 10, 2019

Sermon: Genesis and Ash Wednesday 

Indigenous laws are rarely invoked on Parliament Hill, but that’s exactly what happened earlier this month when Jody Wilson-Raybould cited core values shaped by a “long line of matriarchs” in front of a House of Commons justice committee.

Wilson-Raybould said, “I come from a long line of matriarchs and I am a truth teller in accordance with the laws and traditions of our Big House. This is who I am and this is who I always will be.” I will be thinking of Wilson-Raybould’s words this week as I share with you about the meaning and practice of the ritual of ashes in our Christian tradition, since I believe that a teachable parallel emerges between the laws of the indigenous Big House and what forms the practice of Ash Wednesday. 

The first parallel has us asking, what would it be like if we imagine the church as a Big House? The concept of a Big House is literally a large structure that, in the past, sheltered up to four extended families of a clan. Today, they are a place for ceremonies, decision-making, and discussions. Many indigenous leaders call it their Parliament building. It’s very important, and very sacred. Chief Joseph Robert of the Kwakwaka'wakw Nation said “It’s the place where we come from and it shows our connections to our origins… All of them have genesis stories and from that genesis story we talk about all of the history… we talk about the laws that evolve from that genesis and we talk about the spirituality that is inherent in all of the genesis.”

If those words sound familiar, it’s because the same is so true to the Christian House, the Church. Our history, faith, spirituality, worship and practices have been marked by the genesis story, the creation stories in our Bible. The words of blessing that we use in the ritual of ashes, come from Genesis. In the imposition of ashes, we pick up a bowl of ashes, turn toward a neighbour and mark the cross, slowly, on their forehead, as the other bends to receive it. And as we do, we tell each other, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you will return.” (Genesis 3:19) 

Now, my question is this. If the Indigenous Laws that are the foundational truth that builds the Big House and the life of Indigenous people and nations make such a powerful ‘conflict’ with the ways of the world, including politics, corporate power, the wealth of nations and transnational capitalism, then, what ‘conflicts’ do the Christian Genesis story (its use and its understanding) make when it rubs up against the ways of the world? 

On Ash Wednesday, we tell one another, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you will return”, and it seems to me that it has become a little trendy these days that some mainline North American churches decide to take the ashes with them when they go out to the streets. In the busy intersection of traffic and people, in the valley of high-rise buildings and between the sound of honks, the clergy in their white robes meet people and bless them and say, memento mori, ‘Remember our universal mortality.’, or 'We all are from the Earth, and we need to resettle our lives to be aligned with the life of the Earth.' 

I believe the ritual of ashes, regardless of where it is practiced, potentially has the power to conflict with the laws of capitalism. I say, 'potentially', because I also see the complacency in the way the ritual of ashes is practiced in the sanctuary and shown in the media. (It doesn't seem to be quite right when you google the images of Ash Wednesday and find that with several exceptions, most images show young women receiving the ashes from male clergy, especially non-White young women, or girls (mostly), or boys.

Only a few images show white young men receiving ashes. What these say to me is the issue may not only be the current demographic of North American Catholics, but the historical hierarchy and colonialism of who gives blessings and sanctions and who receives, embedded in religious and Christian rituals for centuries. I believe we should critically reflect on how we have practiced our tradition before we give out the ashes. Christian rituals need to be rethought and recreated to become less patriarchal, decolonizing, more democratic and good for children. 

I imagine that a good ritual is like a big spider who weaves their home with their own organic elements and authentic skills, building something fragile and strong, knowing that a careless world can break it, yet always willing to rebuild. The liturgy of Ash Wednesday is still beautiful like a hungry, female spider. (You don't have to agree with my metaphor! :)) And this spider is willing to create ‘conflict’ with the world (Its sticky web catches what flies into it!) Christian ritual should be an experimental liturgy to offer a full-body experience of God (lungs, thumb, knees, eyes, tongue), not just chatter about God.

The best practice of the ritual of ashes begins with what Amos says, unfurling the scroll. “Let justice roll down like rivers.” On Ash Wednesday, the liturgy continues with the admonition from the prophet Joel: “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.” Then a song of Isaiah’s: “Your holy cities are a wilderness.” The prophet warns his sinful people. “Now pour down, you heavens, from above: and let the skies rain down righteousness.” 

Ash Wednesday has an unusual emphasis in Christian liturgy: catastrophe. Massacres, weeping, swords, desolation. These aren’t the kind of events the church usually celebrates. Jewish people might be familiar with making liturgy out of catastrophe, as Jews live, and pray, close to the experience of collective suffering. As Christians, we are more prone to focusing on the positive aspects of faith, ‘personalized faith’, keeping pain private and liturgy uplifting. 

However, we still witness and hear the cry of collective suffering in our own country and all over the world and we have to realize that we are part of the worldly system that both causes the suffering and asks us to look away from it. The question Ash Wednesday asks is, “How closely do we want to look?” It is a request to reflect on our sins, which is as risky as asking for the spirit of truth to come. God demands, (in Isaiah) “Is this the kind of fast I have chosen? One day for lying on sackcloth and ashes? Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter - when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?” To go back to the image of the spider building a web, Ash Wednesday, as one day a year of lying on sackcloth and ashes, would be a pretty flimsy web. Loosing the chains of injustice, setting the oppressed free, breaking the yoke – every day of the year – would be a robust web, beautiful, strong, rebuilt anew every day.

Going back to Genesis, I hope to share one last reflection. “Remember you are dust, and to dust you will return”, is actually the words of one of the five curses God flings at Adam and Eve and the snake after their sin - eating the fruit in the middle of the garden. 

Isn’t it interesting that the words of blessing we say to one another as we apply ashes are actually the words of the curses in genesis? The first curse is, the perpetual struggle of the snake to crawl and always be in conflict with the descendants of women. Second, the woman is deemed to be the subject of the man. Third, the woman’s sexual desire will lead to painful childbirth. Fourth, that men will endure hard labour on the land. Fifth. “And at the end of their lives, they will return to the dust from which they were made.” My point is that we really need to critically reflect on our genesis, its implication, how we’ve used it to support patriarchy, control of women’s sexuality, slavery and colonialism, used it as unbridled permission to conquer the world and exploit nature as a raw resource, rather than caring for it as the garden of our origin. 

If “Remember you are dust” comes from our genesis, and we know how it has been used in history, we also need to really understand what we mean when we say “Remember you are dust”, especially when we say it to women, people from traditionally non-Christian countries, Indigenous people and children. 

Genesis is inherent in our Big House. We need to reflect on how it conflicts with and how it is complacent with the laws of the world. The Good news - the blessing - is, in this story, death is also God’s gift to humanity, so that the harshness of life will find an end. After all, the ritual of ashes affirms the will and determination of our lives. Eve (living, life) and Adam (the earthling) will live on this land in the face of a harsh existence, and Eve will be the mother of life. 

The church which arose from those beginnings will always bear the mark of the five curses and the blessing that is still left in their wake; a Big House that is daily rebuilt with repentance, action, and hope.

Sermon: The Bodhisattva and the Christ (Transfiguration Sunday), Luke 9:28-43 Mar 3, 2019

                                       Luke 9:28-43 

Sermon:          The Bodhisattva smiled, and

                   Jesus went down from the mountain.  

In today’s scripture reading, Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray. He is accompanied by his three disciples, who will be the witnesses to what is going to happen. While Jesus is praying, the story tells us, that “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” Before today, I have preached on this scripture text more than two times (over the last 5 years) and read some commentaries and sermons about it, and of course, prayers written to commemorate Jesus’ transfiguration. I have seen many illustrations of the glory demonstrated in “dazzling white” (actually his clothes became dazzling white), but few mentions of his face. People used to say, “Clothes make the man”, but now we agree that it’s what inside that counts; so today’s story draws me to pause and recollect (through my imagination) the face of Jesus. Can you see with me what Jesus’ face could be like in the moment of transfiguration? (In this case, I believe the practice of the millennia old Eastern Orthodox Church tradition really may help us with Icons.)

Jesus as illustrated in Ethiopian Church, c.1500

What I imagined was that the face of Jesus his close disciples saw in the mountain-top moment of transfiguration must have been the same face that everyone else - the ordinary everyone, you and me - could see regardless of where we meet Jesus, on the mountain top or in the market place or on the subway. It doesn’t mean that the expression and appearance of his face is changeless, (We have dozens of tenacious and delicate muscles that underlie our facial expressions; they show unmistakable truths about ourselves - our body language speaks louder than words.) 

The face of Jesus always showed who he truly was, matching face and heart, matching humanity and divinity, matching heaven and earth. I hope that if we were the disciples who were with Jesus in the moment of transfiguration, we would not lose the moment to truly encounter the face of Jesus, rather than being overwhelmed by the splendid, intimidating, dazzling white that he was wearing. 

This week, I smiled when I came up with the title I chose for this Sunday’s reflection: 

“The Bodhisattva smiled, and

        Jesus went down from the mountain.” 

Some years ago, when I was in my twenties, I had a dream about an extraordinarily beautiful being. In those years I studied Buddhism, with an experienced and distinguished scholar as my teacher. So, it was natural for me to think that the exceptionally beautiful being I saw in my dream was Bodhisattva. I am very thankful that we, and many animals, including birds, have this subconscious activity called REM sleep, dreaming, which we do not control, because dreams can sometimes deliver a very important message. This exquisitely beautiful being, Bodhisattva, who appeared in my dream stood surrounded by mountains and yet was taller than all the mountains. Their clothes didn’t shine in blinding, dazzling white but their whole being was full of various warm colours we see in the spring — all harmonious, with pink as their primary colour, like a flower.

The Bodhisattva showed very impressive, stable, peace, joy and beauty. 

They seemed gender-neutral (very feminine to be masculine, more masculine than could be perceived as purely feminine.) If you saw this Bodhisattva, you might wonder if you had just seen a pregnant body, implying the future of the cosmos. Yet, what was the most distinguished in the Bodhisattva’s entire appearance was the face, the inexplicably beautiful and warm face with an unforgettable smile. The most mysterious and warm smile, the kind you want to see one more time, and wonder how a being can smile like that. This completely enlightened being smiled, which showed who they truly were – a being of distinguishing humbleness. In all the years since I had the dream, every once in a while, I would recollect it. That dream inspired me to pause in today’s reading to wonder and recollect the face of Jesus which always shows who he truly is. I think of characteristics like compassion, human humbleness, exceptional divine beauty in human flesh, The Dharma Body (teaching body) of prajna (understanding) and love who is pregnant with all humanity and living beings in the entire cosmos. The cosmic Christ who was also the shepherd, who was also the woman who swept her entire house to find her lost coin, who was also the teacher, healer and the Messiah whose glory was on the cross, who rose again and met his friends in Galilee, the small village where everything began. The son of a carpenter and everyone else a fisher, the start of a revolution of spirit and mind. 

Only a few weeks ago, while I was reading Living Buddha and Living Christ, by Thich Nhat Hanh, I had a sudden realization. For a long time, I identified the extraordinary and beautiful being as Bodhisattva, but I missed the other important truth which Buddhism teaches: non-duality. As is the relation of the wave and the water - the phenomena and its substance - Buddhism teaches the true nature of ourselves is Buddha. I was surprised, thinking, “How haven’t I ever thought that the beautiful recollection of Buddha/Bodhisattva I saw in my dream is also my own Buddha Nature, my own Christ-like nature, the true beautiful nature in me. It is a mirror to the true, whole, beautiful nature of all of us, of all human beings, of all mammals, birds, water, all that crawls and all that swims. (If I were an artist, like Luba, I would draw and paint the beautiful Bodhisattva I saw in my dream and show it to you!)

But that’s not the end. I could also see the parallel between Bodhisattva and the Christ. A Bodhisattva is Buddha yet not Buddha; there’s a slight distinction between them. A Bodhisattva refers to the Enlightened being who could enter Nirvana but refuses to do so in order to go back to the Samsara world where people live and suffer, the messy, hurting, suffering world. In Buddhism, there are many beloved Bodhisattvas, in all different names, many of whom are devoted to mercy and compassion. In history, more lower-class people, women, the exploited, the uneducated, the illiterate found peace in their deep devotion to these beings, and believed that simply saying their names as prayer could save them or help them to enter Nirvana (even without education.) Jesus is, in many aspects, like a Bodhisattva. His followers claimed him to be the Messiah who would save them from the Roman Empire, end every suffering and illness, bring the glorious Davidic dynastic back, even, perhaps, bring his own people power and prestige. But no. His own Messiahship took a totally different path. The Cross is certainly not the Nirvana place which people would ascribe to their King. 

In today’s scripture, we do not have the description of what the changed appearance of his face was exactly like, but we learn from the text that Jesus, on the next day of transfiguration, “came down from the mountain, to the great crowd” who met him; the first thing he did was to heal a suffering child. Jesus came down and acted, while Peter wanted to build three dwellings to live on the mountain top, away from the messy Samsara world.

There is an important lesson we can learn from the stories of Bodhisattva and Jesus on the mountaintop. Being enlightened, yet not claiming their earned status, Bodhisattva returns to the messy, suffering world. Transfigured in a glory of dazzling white, yet not claiming his status, Jesus comes down from the mountain to heal the hurting world. I am thinking we must do the same. What matters and what may be more important is not in claiming what the Christian identity is, what our denominational position or boundary should be - what matter lies in what work we do in our faith and what work we can do with others of all faith and without faith. Work matters. What we do tells others more than what we say we are! But - we must let go of the familiar habit of supposing that we Christians are the centre of the moral universe when, for example, this past week, Jody Wilson-Raybould said no to corruption, Kim and Trump said no to an anti-nuclear deal, United Methodists voted no to LGBTQ inclusion and same-sex marriage. How shall we come down from the mountain and meet the crowd who are the face of Jesus?